


Upheaval.

by rubyrosettared



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: A bed., Gen, Grief, Honolulu Heights, Not What You're Thinking!, Series 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyrosettared/pseuds/rubyrosettared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post '1955' and pre 'The Graveyard Shift'  Hal struggles with his grief and with his new set of circumstances, unaware that Annie is going through something similar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upheaval.

**Upheaval.**

They say that death is part of life. Hal stands in the centre of his new room and his eyes take in the patterned papered walls.

_If that’s the case, then what does that make me? I died half a millennium ago yet here I am, living but yet dead._

_What does that make me?_

He sighs quietly.  He doesn’t know. He’s an anomaly, something fearful, something… _obscene_ and unnatural. Vampire.

_I am Hal Yorke._

He remembers times gone by. He remembers the freedom of his vampiric existence. He’d been released from the bonds of mortality to embrace his new beginnings and he had done so with wild abandon, building himself a fearsome reputation along the way. People feared him; lesser vampires cowered at his feet and those higher up the ladder curried favour with him hoping that some of his brightness, his influence, his _promise_  would reflect upon them. He was not fooled for an instant by them. He let them try and at the same time he used them for his own craven purposes.

But now?

_I am Hal Yorke._

He is supposed to stay here, live _here_ with these people and continue with the life that he had led in Southend. He’s expected to continue with the routines and habits that kept him busy there. They’re supposed to keep him safe. It had almost catastrophically failed at the first hurdle, at the first test. He had almost let Leo down.

_Almost but not quite._

Annie had dragged him back from the precipice. With a few sharply painful but honestly spoken words she had hauled him back from the point of no return.

So now what? He feels helpless, like the infant that sleeps so peacefully, so unaware in the room above his head.

He envies her the innocence of that slumber.  

The child has nothing to worry about, nothing to be afraid of. She will be cossetted, loved and protected. Already the dog dotes on her with blind devotion. He remembers the vehemence in his eyes as he warned him away from her and the slight curl of his lip when he hissed at him to do the world a favour and get rid of him. He saw the desire to do so plainly in those eyes of his.

He still wishes that he had. He’s tired; he’s so damned tired of it all.

He wishes for more confidence. He wishes for more self-belief that he will survive all of this. Even after his earlier almost slip, he still isn’t entirely sure that he will.

His shoulders slump and he turns and pauses when he sees the gaudy brass bed that dominates the room. He frowns at it.

Oh no, this will not do at all.

* * *

 

The house is silent and still. Hal lies in the centre of the bed and he stares up at the ceiling. Dinner had been tense and conversation somewhat non-existent. Annie had tried to draw him out a little bit but there was only so much he could tolerate. He’d been acutely aware of Tom seated opposite him, all but glaring at him but the tight ball of grief had sat territorially in the centre of his chest and refused to budge. He’d barely been able to choke a few mouthfuls of food down before making whispered excuses and a hasty escape.

Sleep eludes him as ever present fear scratches at the inside of his skull.

Everything feels wrong. Everything feels tumbled about and out of place. The room is too new, the bed is too big and nothing feels _familiar_ anymore.

He doesn’t want to be here in this place with these strangers. He feels it begin to well up inside of him and it threatens to overwhelm. Panic encroaches and he sits up and looks around at the shadows, his breathing shallow and somewhat laboured. He wipes at his face and feels the slickness against his skin.

Hal observes the sun peek over the horizon and he watches shades of grey, pink and pale yellow paint the horizon. His eyes feel heavy and gritty. He hasn’t slept a wink and he feels exhausted because of it.

* * *

 

There’s no sign of Tom when Hal next appears for breakfast. He feels guiltily grateful for that and feels the little knot of anxiety loosen slightly between his shoulder blades. He sees the table set with boxes of cereal, a tea pot, milk, sugar and toast. A newspaper is folded neatly beside one empty cup and he stares at it for a moment. He bites his lower lip and fights against the urge to turn and flee once more.

“Morning Hal.” Annie’s voice makes him start and his head snaps around and he sees her come through the double doors. Her arms are empty and he turns his head in the opposite direction, searching.

“Eve’s having her morning nap. Hopefully she’ll be out for the next couple of hours. Babies.” She gives a quick little laugh and a roll of her eyes as Hal looks at her once more.

“Didn’t get a moment’s peace last night…little tinker,” she continues with a little shake of her head which sends her curls bouncing merrily. She then regards Hal and the amusement slides away as she suddenly notices his tension, his apprehension.

“How did you sleep last night?” she enquires softly.  Hal looks away and frowns slightly.

“I…didn’t…new surroundings and all of that,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper as he returns his attention to the table.

“Oh…take a seat. The tea is fresh in the pot, plenty of milk, cereal, anything you fancy. Leo said…” She pauses as she sees the spark of pain in the vampire’s eyes. She swallows and takes a breath.

“He told you that I like to read the newspaper during breakfast,” Hal continues in a low monotone and Annie nods slightly.

“Yes he did.” She watches as he slowly approaches the table and lowers himself onto the chair. He doesn’t touch a thing, not the plate, the cup or the newspaper.

“We used to talk about the headlines each morning…stories that he thought would be interesting and would promote…healthy conversation…and debate.” He doesn’t look at her, his words stilted. She sees the tension in his posture and across his shoulders. It’s a slight improvement on the absolute silence of the previous evening.

“Maybe…you and I could do that? I used to do that sometimes with…” Her words fade away once more when she remembers Nina. She remembers sitting across this very same table from her, an issue of whatever magazine was at hand open at a random page and she would just talk to her. Nina was suffering from morning sickness and she would just talk to her, anything to get her mind off how she was feeling at that point in time.

“Perhaps,” Hal whispers in response. He’s saved from further conversation by the sound of the baby beginning to wail. From the corner of his eye he sees Annie’s expression change to one of mild frustration.

“So much for a good nap Eve…” she mutters and goes to tend to her.

* * *

 

Hal goes through the routine of pouring himself tea from the pot. He doesn’t add milk and he stares at it for a moment. He doesn’t add sugar either but he picks up the silver teaspoon nestled beside the cup and stirs it anyway. It’s the only noise in an otherwise quiet room. Annie has got to the child in time, he can’t hear her. He’s relieved.

He reaches for some toast and places it on the tea plate in front of him and he unfolds the newspaper and his eyes slide over the front page headlines. He picks up his teacup and takes a slow, cautious sip.

As he replaces the cup he hears heavy footsteps on the stairs and he lifts his eyes and he sees Tom in the doorway. Slowly his spine stiffens as vampire and werewolf regard each other.

“Mornin’ Hal,” Tom wishes him and Hal pauses but he doesn’t seem to hear any acid or sarcasm in his tone. It’s a first.

“Good morning,” he responds politely.

He watches Tom approach the table and sit down somewhat untidily in the chair opposite. He watches as he grabs the nearest box of cereal and listens as it rattles into the bowl in front of him.

He watches him add milk and then begin to eat it, the crunching the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. He sighs quietly and returns his attention to the newspaper.

 

* * *

 

He returns to his room a little later. He halts again when he sees the bed. It had felt wrong sleeping in such a large bed. He hasn’t slept in such a bed in over fifty five years and his thoughts stray to the connotations that such a size of bed leads to and simultaneously long suppressed images flood his brain. They taunt at him, poke at him and force him to remember those decadent times gone by. He screws his eyes shut and forces his mind to empty and he takes several slow deep breaths.

“Hal?” His eyes pop open when he hears Annie’s voice and he swallows down the irritation. Slowly he turns and he sees her standing in the doorway, cradling the baby in her arms. His eyes falter on it for a moment before lifting to Annie’s face.

“Can I help you?”

“Is there a problem?” she enquires as she rocks the child with maternal patience.

“Should there be?” he enquires coolly and watches her frown slightly.

“Well…no but you’ve been staring at that bed for the last five minutes which was why I asked…but if there isn’t a problem…” She turns to leave. Hal sighs quietly.

“It _is_ the bed,” he blurts out and she pauses and looks at him enquiringly.

“Excuse me…what is wrong with the bed?” she asks just as coolly.

“It’s too big. I’m not…used to sleeping in such a…large bed,” he admits and watches how her eyes go past him to look at the bed and then widen slightly in understanding.

“Oh.” Her voice becomes soft and sympathetic.

“Couldn’t you…get… _used_ to it? Tom has a double bed and he likes the space.”

“I don’t _like_ space,” Hal interjects crisply and Annie blinks.

“Oh no, of course not. You like order and routine,” she mutters almost to herself but Hal hears every word. Annie sighs.

“Okay, fine. There’s a single bed in the attic room, in Eve’s room. You can have that but you’ll have to get it and set it up yourself,” she instructs him and Hal inclines his head just the once.

“That’s perfectly fine, and thank you.” Annie blinks again in surprise.

“Don’t make too much of a mess,” she tells him as she leaves, still rocking the child in her arms. Hal sighs quietly.

He makes his way up to the attic room and he stands in the doorway and regards the cot in its centre somewhat warily. He knows that she isn’t in there but he approaches it with a modicum of caution anyway. He pauses beside it and his hands curl over the top of cot rail as he looks down at the mattress and the jumble of brightly coloured blankets. He lifts his head slightly and regards the mobile suspended above it, at the crucifixes dangling there. He’s an Old One, religious symbols and such like don’t affect him anymore. He lifts a hand and gently flicks at one of the crucifixes and watches how it spins and dances. He then turns his head to look at the narrow window where more crucifixes nestle between the folds of the net lace curtain suspended there. He slowly approaches it and looks out across the neighbouring rooftops and down to the harbour. He stands there for a few moments and just enjoys the peace. Everything is far away here and some of the tension eases out of his shoulders. He then turns around to face the room once more and sees the single bed frame resting up against the far wall.

* * *

 

Annie stands in the doorway and she watches him. He hasn’t said another word to her since their exchange of earlier. She’s heard him come down the stairs, carrying various parts of the single bed and right now they’re propped up against the wall opposite his room. He’s crouched down beside the double bed and he’s slowly, diligently dismantling it.  He seems to sense her presence because he pauses as he eventually becomes aware.

“Is there something the matter?” He doesn’t look at her, not at first and she straightens as slowly he turns his head and he looks at her. Her eyes widen slightly at the expression on his face, the displeasure in his eyes. There’s no welcome there and it makes her feel uncomfortable. She’s used to the softness, the patience that George used to show her, the concern Mitchell had before it had all gone so horrifically, tragically wrong. She shies away from thinking any more about her lost lover.

“I was just wondering…whether you needed any help.”  Hal regards her for a long moment.

“Everything is under control,” he replies and she hears the thread of impatience in the tone.

“It’s a big job to do on your own Hal, I’m sure Tom wouldn’t mind helping.” He looks away and instead seems to glare at the bedstead in front of him.

“If I required Tom’s help then I would request it,” he bites back. He wields the screwdriver in one hand and goes back to work on it.

“But…”

“For Christ’s sake Annie, will you kindly just _leave_ _me_ _alone_!” His voice vibrates with anger and Annie goes still. Her eyes are wide as she watches Hal get to his feet. She watches him approach the door and slowly but very deliberately he closes it in her face.

* * *

 

She leaves him alone after that outburst. She won’t admit it to anyone but hearing that anger directed at her hurt. She spends the rest of the day doing other things, busy things to take her mind off it all. Fortunately looking after baby Eve keeps her busy but her thoughts do stray to him from time to time. She hears him thumping around, clattering and his door opening and closing. He’s keeping busy and she remembers Leo’s words about his need to keep occupied. She must remember that he isn’t George and he isn’t Mitchell. He is Hal and he’s different. She feels the lump in her throat thicken at the thought of her two best friends and of how much she misses them and Nina. She misses the company of another female in the house. She glances down at Eve who is dozing contently in her arms.

“You don’t count young lady, not just yet,” she whispers.

Hal comes downstairs and he pauses in the doorway when he sees Annie in the living room. She’s taking care of the baby as usual and he watches her, sees the expression on her face as she smiles down at her. Guilt nips at him. He shouldn’t have spoken to Annie the way that he did earlier but he isn’t the most patient of souls sometimes. His hands tighten on the tools that he’s brought down to replace and he slowly enters the living room. He watches Annie turn her head in his direction and her expression is wary and she has every right to feel that way.

“All done then?” she asks and he hears the reserve in her tone. Slowly he nods.

“Yes…I’m just going to…replace these where I found them and then I’ll take the old bed frame and the mattress up to the attic room,” he answers in a slow halting voice. Annie regards him.

“That’s fine,” she replies. Hal looks down at his hands for a moment and he takes a quiet breath.

“Annie…I…I wanted to apologise about my behaviour…earlier. I had no right in speaking to you in that manner. I was rude and it was… inexcusable. I hope that in time you’ll be able to forgive me, after all you’ve been very kind in offering me a roof over my head.” He looks back at her and he sees the surprise in her eyes.

“Oh…of course Hal, it’s forgotten and you’re…forgiven. It’s been a tough few days for us all actually so don’t give it another thought,” she replies and it surprises him slightly that she can forgive him so easily and so quickly. He ventures further into the room.

“I don’t mean to be so…obnoxious…I try not to be or at least I’m trying not to be. So much has happened recently and I’m still trying to get my head around all of it,” he confesses. He watches as Annie rises to her feet and goes to the white Moses basket on the stand beside the fireplace and lays the child inside of it. She turns and regards him. She smiles faintly.

“It’s fine Hal, really. Tea?” she invites and watches how his eyes widen almost in panic. He shakes his head somewhat rapidly. Annie’s smile disappears as she watches as he places a handful of tools on the bar and then leaves. She listens to his hurried footsteps on the stairs before she hears the bedroom door close. She sighs quietly. She glances at Eve over her shoulder. She lies in her Moses basket waving her arms somewhat contentedly. Hal is proving to be very hard work. Both Leo and Pearl had warned her that he required a lot of patience and understanding but even she’s finding her resolve being tested.

She needs to speak to Tom.

* * *

 

He stands in front of the fireplace and stares hard at the framed photograph on the mantelpiece. He shoves both hands in his trouser pockets and his right hand curls around the single domino piece that is in there. He rubs his thumb familiarly over the grooves and scratches. He waits for calmness to descend, for order to settle in his brain.

It doesn’t.

This is difficult; he is finding the adjustment to this new routine, this new life far more challenging than he had anticipated. The fear that he’s trying to suppress, to force down is surging up again and along with it the anxiety is making him restless. He doesn’t _have_ to agree to this, he doesn’t have to accept it. He could just pack up his belongings and walk out of here. Nobody would, nobody could stop him.

_To do what?_

He doesn’t know whether any of his comrades or colleagues are still alive and if they were, would they accept him back into the fold with open arms? Does he really want to do that? His thumb rubs harder against the well-worn surface of the single domino that he grips with almost hysterical desperation.

He looks at Leo’s warm smiling face and he feels grief well up inside of him. His vision blurs and he pulls his hands out of his pockets and he folds his arms tightly as he forces down his grief. He takes a deep ragged breath and swallows against the tight lump in his throat.

_I will not panic. I can do this._

He gasps out a breath and feels his anchored control slip away. He wheels around and is reminded of the disorder in his room, the newly assembled bed frame, the empty book case he salvaged from another empty room and his boxes. His eyes go wide. Realisation and acceptance crash together at once.

This is too much…too much. He begins to tremble.

_I give in._

He jolts at the sudden knock on his door. Without waiting for an invitation, the door opens and he sees Tom standing there, Annie close behind him, peering over his shoulder, her eyes round and concerned.

“Can we come in?” Tom asks in a low voice and Hal just nods as he wipes his face. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. He turns his back on them as they enter and he continues to wipe and at the same time he take several deep breaths to pull himself together.

“We’re ‘ere to ‘elp ya,” Tom states in his no-nonsense tone. Hal straightens and slowly turns to look at them both in surprise.

“What?”

“You ‘eard us. Ya need some ‘elp.”

“And you’re volunteering to help me?” He can’t quite keep the condescension out of his voice as he stares at him. Tom frowns and he glances briefly at Annie before he shrugs.

“Who else do ya see askin’? Annie made a promise to Leo an’ I liked ‘im…”

“You barely _knew_ him!” Hal hisses.

“Maybe but I liked ‘im all the same. ‘E was a gentleman an’ for some reason ‘e thought a lot o’ you.” Hal hears his scorn.

“You’ve made your opinion of me quite plain thank you, I’m under no illusions of where I stand in that respect. You don’t want me here, I understand.” Hal’s tone turns icy, his previous panic half forgotten. Tom regards him and there is silence for a moment or two.

“But Leo did. He wanted you here,” Annie interrupts. She goes to stand in between them both.

“Please. I’m not asking you to become best friends or anything like that but could we at least _try_ to get along?” she requests. The vampire and the werewolf regard each other and then slowly, almost imperceptibly, Hal nods. Tom does likewise and Annie sighs with relief.

“Good. At last!” She lets out a small close to hysterical laugh. Then her eyes take in Hal’s room, at the mess that she can see.

“We could help you…get things sorted in here…if you’re okay with that?” she suggests. Hal opens his mouth to refuse but at the last moment he closes it and he just nods.

“Thank you, I’d appreciate it,” he replies instead.

“And while you’re at it boys, the double bed…could you…in my room?”

“You don’ sleep!” Tom exclaims and Annie regards him.

“Maybe not but it doesn’t mean that I don’t rest because believe it or not, I do...sometimes.” She watches the boys exchange a slow look and Hal just shrugs.

“It saves me the task of dragging it up to the attic,” he comments. Tom sighs.

“Fair enough but you took it apart in first place, you can put it together in ‘er room.”

“How about I show you how to put it together?” Hal compromises. Neither of them sees the slight smile on Annie’s face.

* * *

 

 

She hears the footsteps along the corridor and she slides off her newly put together double bed and opens the door. Hal pauses.

“I’m sorry, did I disturb you?” He keeps his voice low. She shakes her head.

“Is your bed comfortable?” He indicates it and she glances over her shoulder and then back at him.

“Very, thank you. How about yours?”

“I’m sure it will be fine.” Annie regards him. Neither of them speaks for a moment.

“If that’s everything…” He goes to leave.

“It’s perfectly fine to miss them you know Hal.” He pauses again and at the same time she sees how his expression seems to freeze over.

“Nobody is expecting you to turn your back on the past and forget that it ever happened. You loved them both and now they’re gone and it’s okay for you to mourn them.” She sees the small frown return to his face.

“Do you?” His voice comes out as a rough whisper and for a moment it confuses her. He clears his throat but she sees a shine in his eyes.

“Your friends, the ones that you lost. Do you miss them?” he clarifies and after a moment she nods, slowly.

“I do. I miss them every single day.” She takes a deep breath and she smiles softly at him.

“They grounded me and when they left, I wanted to fade away to nothing. I wanted to leave,” she confesses quietly, the smile disappearing. A baby’s cry echoes around the house and both of them lift their heads to the sound. Annie sighs quietly, the long suffering sigh of a mother.

“Eve needs me and I can’t give up on her. I made a promise to her father to protect her. She depends on me to keep her safe.” She moves past him on the way to the attic bedroom. She pauses and she looks at him once more.

“Today was a bad day for you Hal but it doesn’t mean that tomorrow will be. It might not be a good day but it might be a better one than today. We’re all in this together but Tom and I will help you if you’ll let us.” Her final smile is brief before she heads along the corridor, towards Eve’s room at the top of the house.

* * *

 

The house is silent once more. He sits on the side of the bed and he looks around his room. He came perilously close to losing control once again. He doesn’t bear to think what could have happened if Tom hadn’t knocked on the door when he did.

He and Tom had taken the double bed frame into Annie’s room and together they’d assembled it for her. They had worked together in a kind of harmony with little dissention and gradually some of the shared tension began to ease. It had felt different and it helped to calm him somewhat. A small part of him had liked that. He still didn’t trust him completely and he does not doubt for a single second that Tom trusts him. It goes both ways.

Trust takes time.

 He looks down at the domino that he holds in his hand and slowly he turns it over and over. Then he stops and holds it tightly in his hand for a moment and closes his eyes.

When he opens them, he places the domino carefully and precisely on his small bedside cabinet before switching off the lamp and climbing into his new, safer, narrower bed. Carefully he lies down and pulls the blankets up over his chest.

He hopes that tomorrow will be a better day.

 

 


End file.
